


The Third Option

by slightly_ajar



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Cold Open Challenge, Found Family, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25217434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightly_ajar/pseuds/slightly_ajar
Summary: This is the first of my contributions to the Cold Open Challenge.  I couldn't decide what to do with the cold opens that already exist so I decided to create my own.Mac ducked around an earpiece wearing security guard and swiped the walkie-talkie clipped to his belt. “I’m wearing these glasses because my cover identity is that I’m a professor and these horn rimmed glasses fit in with that persona.”
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	The Third Option

**Author's Note:**

> I love the Cold Opens but when I looked at the list of all the different ones I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do with them so I thought it would be fun to make up my own for Improvise Day.
> 
> So it might help to imagine the MacGyver theme tune starting at the end of the story...

“So those glasses you’re wearing don’t actually do any stealthy spy stuff?" Desi asked. 

“No,” Mac said. 

“They don’t have a secret camera tucked into their frames?” 

“No.” 

“Is there a laser in the nose pads?” 

“No, and the lenses are just plain glass.” 

“So you’re just wearing them to look cute?” 

“I’m not just wearing them to look cute.” Mac ducked around an earpiece wearing security guard and swiped the walkie-talkie clipped to his belt. “I’m wearing these glasses because my cover identity is that I’m a professor and these horn rimmed glasses fit in with that persona.” 

Mac had counted a team of eight security guards patrolling the plaza he was in and it’s surrounding streets, all armed, alert and highly trained, and a watchman in the clock tower above them. There was definitely more to the exclusive, high end community the Phoenix had been asked to infiltrate than met the eye. 

“So the glasses are there to make you look more academic…academical…academicey?” Bozer asked through the comms. 

“Stereotypes are powerful things.” Russ was strolling on the opposite side of the plaza from Mac and Desi. “It’s thought that we form our first impressions of people seconds after meeting them. The idea that glasses equals intelligence is still firmly fixed in people’s minds. Wearing the right clothes goes a long way when an agent is trying to blend in or gain access to somewhere they want to be.” 

Sycamore trees and stone planters full of flowers lined the square and Mac, Desi and Russ mingled with the people enjoying the late afternoon sun under the shade of the tree’s leafy branches. Russ inhabited his cover identity of a newspaper mogul with aplomb, aviator sunglasses shaded his eyes, his cravat was perfectly tied and his hands were casually resting in his pockets as he sauntered through the thin crowd of young, rich bystanders. 

“So Mac’s glasses will help us deal with these security guards if they start asking questions?” Mac could see Bozer cross the street running alongside the plaza and casually drop the device in his hand into a rubbish bin. 

“Not on their own of course,” Russ said, “but it won’t hurt that he’s wearing them. You’d be amazed the difference an accessory can make. One of the best ways to get access to anywhere is to walk quickly and carry a clipboard, it works like a charm, that and wearing a Hi-Vis jacket.” 

The mood of the plaza was lulled into mellowness by the music played by young man tucked into a corner with a violin. The busker looked innocent enough, a music student playing for practice and a little extra cash, but a bulging shape in the back of his shirt made Mac think that he was armed too. 

“Wearing Hi-Vis makes you invisible?” Riley had been listening to the conversation from her place in the empty building she’d based herself in; she sounded sceptical in Mac’s ear. 

“Ironically yes,” Russ told her, “if you see someone in Hi-Vis you assume they're authorised to be wherever they are and you dismiss them.” 

Riley let out a ‘huh’. 

“Trust me,” Russ dropped to one knee pretending to tie his shoelace and stuck his device to the underside of a nearby car. “I once almost got to the heart of the Pentagon for a bet wearing a Hi-Viz jacket.” 

“What happened when you got caught?” Desi asked, “I’m surprised you weren’t shot.” 

“Luckily I have friends in high places. A really good bottle of scotch and a called in favour smoothed the whole thing over,” Russ said. “And I won the bet, which is what matters.” 

“So the right accessory can help you breach the corridors of power? Who knew?” Bozer asked. “Mac, you really were a professor once, did any of the other professors actually wear glasses like that? Do you think if you had it would have helped with your job?” 

“No I don’t think glasses would have helped.” Mac prized off the back of the walkie-talkie he’d stolen and snapped the chip he’d built in next to it’s battery. “I did think about getting a jacket with leather patches on the elbows though, I’ve always kind of liked them.” 

“Professor MacGyver,” Desi said, testing out the sound of the name, “Did you ever feel like a Hogwarts teacher when someone called you that?” 

“Every now and then. I was occasionally tempted to come to work dressed in black wizards’ robes to see if any of my students noticed. I don’t know if they would have.” 

“Did you ever shout anything like ‘accio Bunsen burner’ when you were doing an experiment?” Riley asked. 

“Well,” Mac said, “I did say wingardium leviosa one time when I used magnets to make a student’s pen hover. I got a round of applause.” 

“Ten points to Ravenclaw,” Russ said. 

Mac and Desi walked slowly past the people enjoying their lazy afternoon, smiling at the smart young couples that they passed as they made their way over to one of the stone planters full of roses that sat on the far corner of the plaza. 

“I don’t know about a wizard’s robe or a tweed jacket with elbow patches but you look cute in those glasses,” Desi said as they went, pushing them back up Mac’s nose with her forefinger, “You’ve kind of got a whole geek chic thing going on. 

"When we’re done here you should take them off and swish your hair around like secretaries in old movies do when their bosses suddenly realise that they've actually been pretty all along.” Riley added.

Desi mimed pulling a pair of glasses off and flipped her hair from side to side. “Why Mr MacGyver,” she said in a breathy voice, “you’re beautiful!” 

Desi and Riley both cackled with laughter. 

“Could you guys stop objectifying me please?” Mac joked in an exaggerated tone of annoyance, clipping his doctored walkie-talkie back together. “It’s 2020 people, get a grip.” 

“I don’t know why you’re complaining. I can’t remember the last time I was objectified.” Mac could see the dejected slump of Bozer’s shoulders from across the street. 

“I’m objectifying you right now, Boze,” Desi told him, “you look cute in that suit.” 

“Thanks, Desi, you’re a good friend.” 

Desi pretended to admire the flowers in the planter when she and Mac reached it, running her fingers over the soft petals and leaning forward to sniff at their sweet scent. She took the walkie-talkie from Mac’s hand when she reached out to cup a bloom and dropped it in amongst the flower’s roots. 

“Always take time to stop and smell the roses,” Mac said as his electronic device landed in the soil with a soft thump. 

“Are we done?” Russ asked over the comms. 

“Everything is in place,” Mac answered. “We just need to triangulate the signal.” 

“The readings should start coming to my laptop in a minute,” Riley said, “I’m connecting to the beacons now.” 

“Let’s go and see what all Mac’s little do-hickies tell us.” Russ changed direction with apparent unconcerned ease and started walking to where Riley was based. 

Russ, Bozer, Mac and Desi all carefully made their way over to the building Riley was stationed in at the back of the plaza. The small space that looked like it had been used as a shop was empty of furniture, it’s shutters were closed and the tarpaulins and scaffolding standing around inside it suggested that the it had closed for renovation. 

“Did you have fun out there?” Riley said in greeting as the team joined her. “Everyone from around here looks pretty fancy, Russ almost looks underdressed with his cravat on.” 

“The prettiest sight in this fine pretty world is the privileged class enjoying its privileges.” Desi quoted. 

“High Society,” Russ said. 

“That’s right,” Desi told him in a high tone of surprise. “You like High Society?” 

“Of course, Frank Sinatra’s in it, who doesn’t love Old Blue Eyes? I’ve always liked him, he was effortlessly cool, that’s a quality I admire.” Russ said, a suave quirk lifting an eyebrow. 

Riley’s laptop bleeped and a status bar appeared on the screen and started to climb. 

“Here we go,” Riley tapped a key with her nail, “this should be ready to upload to the Phoenix in no time.” 

There was a noise outside the hideout - the scuff of a shoe against the pavement - and Russ moved to peer out through one of the gaps in the shutters. 

“Are we all sure that we weren’t followed here?” he asked. 

Mac nodded. “Pretty sure, why?” 

“Because some of the security officers from the plaza seem to be gathering out there.” Russ pointed out through the window. “And they look annoyed. Annoyed and determined. In fact,” Russ leaned closer to the wooden shutters to peer out, “I’d go so far as to say that they look angry.” 

There was a shout from outside their hideout that made the team all look up. There was a heavy metallic click. 

“Just how angry do they look?” Bozer’s voice cracked with concern. “Are they at a ‘I forgot my coffee shop loyalty card again’ level of annoyance or are they at full on ‘Hulk Smash’?” 

“We've been made! Everybody down!” Russ shouted, running towards the team. “On the ground! Now!” 

The room exploded into chaos. Deafening bangs and flying shards of glass and mortar burst and shattered above the team as they threw themselves to the floor. 

“Is there another way out of here?” Russ yelled to Riley over the din. 

“There’s a door in the back but I don’t know how we’re going to get to it.” 

Mac threw one hand over his head and reached out his other hand to grab the nearest person to him as the pounding hail of bullets ripped through the front wall of the building, sending jagged shrapnel raining down. His fingers closed around Bozer’s wrist and together they crawled closer to Desi who had tucked Riley under her body with Russ’ arm thrown over her back. 

Sunlight was pouring in through the bullet holes in the wall and the beams of light lit up the dust spinning like fireflies. 

The onslaught stopped. The silence of the air round them suddenly being free of violence pressed down on the team as they huddled on the floor covered in debris and broken glass. 

“Are you coming out or do we have to open fire again?” A voice from outside the building called. 

Mac looked up and around him, eyes flicking between three pieces of scaffolding, an electric socket, a large fragment of glass and the broken frames of his spectacles, “I have an idea for a third option that they haven’t offered us,” he told his friends, “are you ready?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaand the theme tune comes in here 😉
> 
> Apparently people do form first impressions within the seconds of meeting someone, there have been studies, but the thing about being able to get anywhere if you carry a clipboard and walk quickly or wear a Hi-Vis jacket is just one of my pet theories. 
> 
> Desi does quote High Society but she’s also quoting The Philadelphia Story since High Society is a musical remake of it. High Society is the film I thought of when I remembered that quote so that’s where I attributed it. I love that film, it’s eminently quotable. I’ve always wanted to say ‘Not wounded sir, but dead’ in a melodramatic fashion in response to a question but I’ve never had the chance. One day. Maybe I’ll have to write it into a story.


End file.
